


the storm howls, and everything turns to ashes

by mirroroflit (volunteer_of_hufflepuff)



Series: in history we trust [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: And in love, Angst, Doctor Magnus Bane, Heavy Angst, Implied homophobia, Interwar Years, Lord Alec Lightwood, M/M, Nazi Germany is briefly visited and touched on and throroughly insulted by the characters, Shadowhunters: The Ficlet Instruments, They're British, WWII, Week 5: Forbidden, historical setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-05 23:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20281804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volunteer_of_hufflepuff/pseuds/mirroroflit
Summary: It’s 1932, and Magnus patches up a stranger from a fight with a brown shirt nazi. It’s 1933, and they meet again and bond over their mutual hatred of Adolf Hitler.It’s 1934, and maybe they’re in love.Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood. Who love each other until they can’t.Or: not even love can withstand war, sometimes.





	the storm howls, and everything turns to ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> No one can ever, ever find out.
> 
> -
> 
> I saw this prompt, my mind went to 'extreme angst', 'forbidden love', 'malec' and 'historical au', so here we are.
> 
> I chose this particular period because I've studied it, but please be careful [Nazis are touched on, and Adolf Hitler, in increasingly derogatory ways, but also the start of the war and Dunkirk.]
> 
> Also, heed that MCD.
> 
> Enjoy!

They meet in the midst of Berlin, the stars sparkling on another cold night.

A man stumbles out of the pub, blood trickling down his face.

Magnus stops walking.

“Fucking Nazis,” he grumbles, his tie lopsided and his upper-class accent thick, all polished and proper, though a little undercut by his words.

He blinks, and despite his worn down state, he is the most beautiful man Magnus has ever seen, black hair that blends in with the night and eyes gleaming green and brown underneath the orange lamplight.

“Hello,” Magnus says, stepping towards him. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I’m Dr Bane. I can take a look at that for you.”

The man gives him a long, hard glance before sighing and nodding. “Alright, thank you. My name is Alexander Lightwood.”

And Magnus carefully dabs at his cuts.

.

The rain is bucketing down when they next meet, a year or so later in early 1933.

Again, it is the colourful swearing that catches his attention.

Alexander is standing in the midst of the rain, not caring for his slicked-down hair.

Instead, he is glaring at the day’s newspaper.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck this shit.”

It’s such vulgar vocabulary that Magnus is surprised that Alec isn’t being pulled off the street.

Magnus approaches him, leather gloves curled around his umbrella’s mahogany handle.

“Excuse me,” Magnus says, “but what is the matter, Lord Lightwood?”

Alexander scowls. “Fucking Adolf Hitler’s been elected Chancellor.”

Oh.

.

They keep in touch with long-winded letters and increasingly fond and personal stories after that.

It’s the kind of friendship built out of trust and mutual hatred of Adolf Hitler.

.

1937, Yorkshire.

Kisses in locked rooms, whispers underneath the cloak of night, love confessions at the top of remote towers.

The storm thickens above their waiting heads.

.

It’s cheaper.

More convenient for Magnus, closer to his work.

Or so they tell their friends and family.

Alexander wraps his arm tighter around Magnus’ waist, snuggling in closer under their gold silk sheets.

.

Magnus kisses Alexander’s forehead every morning before he leaves.

Alexander always blearily opens his eyes and pulls him in for a proper kiss, before they leave the confines of their home to enter a world where their love is not welcomed.

.

War is declared.

Magnus cries all night when Alexander receives his call up for the army.

.

The war drags on.

Magnus binds horrific injuries, helps the Dunkirk evacuees recover.

Letters from Alexander sit close to his heart.

He hasn’t heard from him in months.

.

A soldier is rolled in, covered in burning oil tar.

Magnus’ moves are methodical, controlled, until a swipe reveals his lover’s still face.

He excuses himself, so no one else can hear his choked sobs.

.

Alexander dies with broken ribs and a whispered _ I love you _on his lips.

.

Magnus is not allowed to attend the funeral. He’s too common, and no one knows that they were lovers.

After all, don’t you know, a love like theirs is forbidden?

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked this?
> 
> [tumblr ](https://mirrorofliterature.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/mirroroflit)


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